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SRC Book Cover V1.png

Sesquipedalian Rain Chant

$18.95

«Available to Pre-Order Feb 15th» Published June 15th 2026 - Only 250 Copies Printed.

Sesquipedalian Rain Chant‍ from poet Brooks Lampe is Ink & Ribbon’s debut publication. The poems are a meditative collection rooted in Oregon’s wet seasons and shaped by spiritual and poetic tradition.

Organized as a journey through the year, it treats rain not as weather but as method—a recurring force that reshapes language and love. The poems blend domestic life with ancient voices, exploring how coherence might emerge without simplification.

This is a book for readers who believe poetry can hold both depth and mystery, and who are willing to be changed not by certainty, but by the quiet persistence of rain.


«Available to Pre-Order Feb 15th» Published June 15th 2026 - Only 250 Copies Printed.

Sesquipedalian Rain Chant‍ from poet Brooks Lampe is Ink & Ribbon’s debut publication. The poems are a meditative collection rooted in Oregon’s wet seasons and shaped by spiritual and poetic tradition.

Organized as a journey through the year, it treats rain not as weather but as method—a recurring force that reshapes language and love. The poems blend domestic life with ancient voices, exploring how coherence might emerge without simplification.

This is a book for readers who believe poetry can hold both depth and mystery, and who are willing to be changed not by certainty, but by the quiet persistence of rain.


About The Author
Brooks Lampe teaches literature and creative writing,  He has published scholarship on Surrealism, Thomas Hardy, and Walter Pater, and is the author of the poetry chapbook The Planet of Left Hands. His poems have appeared in Utriculi, The Shore, Shot Glass, and Peculiar Mormyrid, among others. He is poetry editor of Sehnsucht: The C.S. Lewis Journal and edits the Substack Uut Poetry. He holds a PhD from The Catholic University of America.

Sappho

Come, Sappho,

with wings darting through air 

toward crumbling mass of rock and water 

we call Sky. “Do for me whatever I desire.” 

What a wish! So long ago imagined,

seed of the world speaking wisdom.

Next spring a feeling comes, born of opposites: 

cold sweat, thin fire.

All of us have felt it. That’s why we know 

Sirach’s right: A soul heated by a fire 

will not be quenched until it’s consumed.

Lovers won’t rest till the end of the world, 

starlight reaching for the boundless

in rays that never return. You, Sappho, 

range the halls, your life force circling 

toward dust. Kingdoms make war

and husbands return, but you’re off

exploring planets’ tender glow. Begin now 

with me on a rainy day like this 

at autumn’s door.